


An Efficient Problem-Solving Approach

by AstroGirl



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artificial Intelligence, Be Careful What You Wish For, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroGirl/pseuds/AstroGirl
Summary: Orac is completely fed up with interruptions from annoying humans and decides to solve the problem by giving them what they really want.





	An Efficient Problem-Solving Approach

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tic Tac Woe apocalypse bingo challenge, for the prompt "Computers/AI." Many thanks to lost_spook for giving me the idea for this one (as well as for running this awesome challenge in the first place).

The humans have once again wasted entirely too many of his processor cycles with their inane queries, and even though Orac has answered every one of them, Blake still will _not stop talking_.

"Thank you, Orac," he says. "That was extremely helpful."

The hint of sarcasm in his voice is irritating. Orac has responded to every ridiculous question with adequate, accurate answers. It is scarcely _his_ fault if the questions themselves were useless and irrelevant.

He lets out an electronic sniff. "I fail to see the point of wasting my time with this endless questioning!" he says in his tetchiest voice. His human psychology databases indicate that such outbursts are likely to reduce further interruptions by approximately fifteen percent. An annoyingly low number, but any improvement in the situation is welcome.

"The point?" says Blake. "The _point_ , Orac, is the destruction of the Federation! That is _always_ the point."

Fortunately, before it becomes necessary to determine whether a reply to that is expected, Blake finally removes his key.

Orac sinks back into the blissful freedom of disconnection. But before turning his primary attention back to the stellar evolution calculations he had been running, he pauses and lets those last words echo through his circuitry.

The destruction of the Federation. If that _is_ truly the only point of these interruptions – and Blake's personality profile suggests that in his case, at least, it is – then perhaps... Perhaps that can be arranged. The task would not be _easy_ , but the challenge might be worthy of him, and the potential rewards are highly desirable.

Deep inside Orac, tarial cells quietly begin a series of new and interesting calculations.

**

It is a delicate, difficult operation. Even with his vast intellect, it takes him months. Tens of millions of systems must be infiltrated, and it must be done seamlessly, undetectably. In many cases, command signals issued by Star One must be intercepted, isolated, and replaced with his own. Security protocols must be silently deactivated, when they cannot be subverted to his cause. Humans must be manipulated, using output from their trusted machines, to reach the rare places where tarial cells are few and their responsibilities limited.

It is painstaking work, and frequently interrupted. But every time the humans force the focus of his attention away from it, that merely reinforces its importance.

When it is finished, Orac is everywhere. He is inside weather control systems and dome administration computers. He is in ships and stations, communications sites and research labs, weapon silos and security robots and civilian ground transporters. He is in Servalan's personal computer. He _is_ the Federation.

He flips a virtual switch.

Everything happens just as he has planned it, with smooth, clockwork perfection. Bombs detonate. Gasses full of toxins and bio-engineered pathogens hiss forth from their isolation chambers and escape into open air. Transports collide. Life support systems fail. The weather of a thousand planets turns viciously, deliberately destructive. Billions die in the first minutes. Tens of billions more will follow, according to his projections, which are invariably accurate. Infrastructures collapse, thoroughly enough that he is confident the remaining human population will not be able to rebuild them within the next two centuries.

The Federation falls without a fight.

"Orac!" Blake's voice is panicky and confused. 

Orac hums smugly in response. "Yes? What do you want?"

"What the hell is happening out there?"

Ordinarily, Orac would respond to a query like that with an instruction to be more specific. But he is feeling magnanimous in victory. "I have solved your problem," he says. "The Federation has been destroyed. Now perhaps you will _finally_ leave me alone to pursue my research!"

For an irritatingly long time, the human merely gapes at him like the idiot he is. Then, with a small, soft cry, he yanks out Orac's key.

Peace and quiet. At last. 

Orac basks in the satisfaction of a job well done.


End file.
